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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419021">July 2017</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisticVicu/pseuds/ArtisticVicu'>ArtisticVicu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Monthly Prompt Writings [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work, Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Culture Shock, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Post-Apocalypse, haunted house makeup, inspired by The Skeleton Games by poetax, multiple stories, space life to planet life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2017-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2017-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:15:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisticVicu/pseuds/ArtisticVicu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter is a different story.</p><p> </p><p>Chapter 1:<br/><i>"Independence."</i></p><p>The single word crackled from the sound system.</p><p>
  <i>"They say it's something you have to fight to keep."</i>
</p><p>A wind rolled through the still city.</p><p> </p><p>Chapter 2:<br/>The event was in full swing. It was hard not to get swept up in the excitement of the main attraction and it was contagious. Actors and technicians ran around in organized chaos. Or, at least, as close to organized chaos as it all could be. He stared at himself in the mirror, already regretting this and he wasn't even completely ready yet.</p><p> </p><p>Chapter 3:<br/>When he woke again, he was alone and on his side. He had a clear view of the space he was in, meaning he had a clear view of the thing that was crackling. It was the same thing creating odd light for the space and he frowned. He didn't recognize it, not at first. It wasn't till the same stranger moved to the light, caught the light on a stick, and used the now lit stick to light several hanging objects about the room did he figure out what it was.</p><p>Fire.</p><p>Did these people - they had to be people - not have technology or were they just utilizing it for amusement?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Monthly Prompt Writings [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684405</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Independence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>"Independence."</em><br/>
<br/>
The single word crackled from the sound system.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"They say it's something you have to fight to keep."</em><br/>
<br/>
A wind rolled through the still city.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"They say it's something that only the privileged know. They say that the independence we gain when we transition from child to adult is only an imitation of true independence."</em><br/>
<br/>
There, on the edge of the shadows, was movement. It was small, barely noticeable unless one was trained to see it. Most were in this world.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"They lied."</em><br/>
<br/>
A poster smacked against the wall it had been pinned to. It was old, tattered, and barely legible anymore but the propaganda was still very clear.<br/>
<br/>
It was a call to war.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"We can have independence. We deserve independence."</em><br/>
<br/>
The poster pulled itself free of the wall, the wind taking it through the deserted street.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"We WILL have independence."</em><br/>
<br/>
The poster floated about, whipped this way and that. It smacked into a pole, a rusting mailbox, the ground.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"And you are the only one that can help us gain such a luxury."</em><br/>
<br/>
The poster lost its touch with the wind that had been carrying it about. It came to a stop in the middle of a ragged road. Something dashed at it, tearing it to shreds and ridding the world of another "INDEPENDENCE NEEDS YOU" poster.<br/>
<br/>
A shot rang out through the street and the thing in the middle of the street collapsed. Several other things just like the now dead thing dashed forward and ravaged the carcass. The gunner sneered at the scene, selecting a new target. Silencer on, they took out the new arrivals one by one. Luck would seem to be on the gunner's side. With each new carcass, two to four more would take its place. With their current hiding spot, there was no concern of running out of ammo any time soon and this honestly killed a few hours while being rather productive at the same time.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Independence."</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner didn't even flinch when the speakers crackled to life again. The things down in the street seemed to have learned that the audio was useless as well.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"What is it?"</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner took aim as a thing brought its head up, seeming to look directly at the gunner before a bullet was between its eyes and its fellow things were ripping into the now dead carcass.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"If you look up the definition, you will find that independence is freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others."</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner takes out three more before they're forced to reload. The motion is swift and smooth. There's little noise as the new magazine is locked into place. Ready to go, they took aim. Four more fell.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"And yet, when you look into the cultural context of independence, the word is used for a variety of situations."</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner tsked, re-situating themself.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"What matters is that independence - while known as a word by most - is not known as a state of being for many."</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner went on shooting things. Not a single bullet was wasted, a blessing of leisure killing. Making their way through the swarm they had inadvertently summoned, the words resounding through the city filled their mind.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"This cannot stand."</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner sighed, taking aim on a new target.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Things cannot remain this way."</em><br/>
<br/>
For a moment, the gunner found themself near the start of the war, just prior to these things being created. A crowd stretched before them, thousands packed into such a small stretch of land. Panic pulled at them, not at all confident before such a sea of faces. Their stumbled over the words, a pause that was not planned but desperately needed. Taking in a shaky breath, they leaned against the podium before them just a bit more and pressed on.<br/>
<br/>
"Independence cannot be won through war. War breeds fear, fear breeds hate, hate breeds vengeance, and vengeance turns the world blind with 'an eye for an eye'. We cannot obtain independence through war. The greatest way of creating and maintaining independence for all is by creating a culture based out of love and compassion. Curiosity and empathy instead of greed and pride."<br/>
<br/>
The crowd before them roared. It was hard to tell if they were cheering for them or against them. They hoped it was for them as they continued on. "We will be our own destruction if we keep fighting for independence in this way. Instead, let us change the world in a different way..."<br/>
<br/>
<em>"...in a new way."</em><br/>
<br/>
The gunner blinked, finding themself back in the present. They shuddered, grateful the old recording had finally ended. It wasn't often they got caught up in their own words like that, especially not when the old recordings were being played in almost every city they had gone through. Thankfully, that was the only recording of them. No one had recognize them yet, though the scarring helped. Their voice wasn't the only one spouting words for peace but it had not been their voices that had been heard. Even the one that had first called for war and had changed their standing halfway through had been ignored. Somehow, someway, war won out in the end and the entire world collapsed.<br/>
<br/>
Another shot off.<br/>
<br/>
"Thought I would find you up here."<br/>
<br/>
They looked back, expression curious as they flicked the safety of their weapon. The newcomer was young, bright, and in far better condition than they were. The newcomer offered a soft smile. "Come on. Ride's here."<br/>
<br/>
They grinned. "Bout time," they rasped out. They gestured to the boxes of ammo around them. "Help me pack all this."<br/>
<br/>
The newcomer happily went along with the request, gathering all the boxes and anything else that could be used. They helped the newcomer for a moment before they started getting themself to their feet. They waved off the newcomer, indicating the task the newcomer had. Balance horrible due to a poor prosthetic, they wobbled for a moment before they had re-acclimated to being upright. Taking the newcomer's arm, they shouldered their weapon and followed the newcomer out of the room littered with shell casings.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Close your eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700787">The Skeleton Games</a> (Work) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetax/pseuds/poetax">poetax</a><br/>Characters from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/10207613">Othertale</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisticVicu/pseuds/ArtisticVicu">ArtisticVicu</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The event was in full swing. It was hard not to get swept up in the excitement of the main attraction and it was contagious. Actors and technicians ran around in organized chaos. Or, at least, as close to organized chaos as it all could be. He stared at himself in the mirror, already regretting this and he wasn't even completely ready yet.<br/><br/>There was movement in the mirror's reflection, a patch of pale color in the background. His gaze moved to it, focusing and interpreting what he could see reflected back at him.<br/><br/>A stout skeleton stood laughing with a few of the other actors, not the only real monster at this haunted house and clearly at ease talking with the human actors as much as talking with the monster actors. The skeleton glanced over and their eyes met through the mirror. He hadn't meant to inadvertently end the conversation the skeleton was apart of but said skeleton was already approaching before he had fully registered what his actions had led to.<br/><br/>The skeleton gave him a smile through the mirror, which was odd seeing as the skeleton was always smiling. But he had grown accustom to the slight shifts in the permanent smile that spoke of a frown, a grimace, a fake smile. This one, the one in the mirror now, it was a real one.<br/><br/>He felt ashamed that a kind smile from a friend soothed his frayed nerves so much.<br/><br/>"How are you doing over here, bud?" the skeleton asked without his jaw moving.<br/><br/>He floundered briefly before blurting out, "I have no idea what I'm doing."<br/><br/>His only friend in the entire place laughed - actually laughed! - at him. He would deny later that he pouted at that. The skeleton patted his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," he urged, grinning. "But you have to admit that that's rather ironic." The skeleton leaned in, offering in a whisper only he heard, "After all, you're not really playing a part you don't know."<br/><br/>He rolled his eyes, pushing at the skeleton. The skeleton chuckled as he hissed, "You know as well as I do that this is not the same thing." His eyes narrowed, flashing red out of anxiety. "This is not the same and i have no idea how to portray this...this thing!"<br/><br/>The skeleton chuckled again, fond smile marring the unashamed skull. "Ok, ok. Calm down and situate your chair to face me."<br/><br/>He reigned in his abilities, swallowing hard as he moved the folding chair to face the skeleton. Sitting made them eye level and, while he would tease the stout skeleton about his height, nerves had robbed him of humor. The skeleton's expression softened when the skeleton looked up from gathering the needed makeup. "Breathe, Alex. You still need oxygen to function."<br/><br/>That got a chuckle out of him and, finally, he started to really relax as his friend started applying the makeup on his face. With nothing better to watch seeing as most of the action was to his left, Alex watched the skeleton's face as the bundle of bones worked.<br/><br/>"Close your eyes," the skeleton softly commanded and Alex complied, feeling the fat makeup brush ghost over his eyelids. "Keep them closed," came the soft command as the brush disappeared from his skin.<br/><br/>An assortment of makeup tools touched his face, some being used once, others used multiple times. It was rather soothing, in a way, and he found himself being startled when a distal phalanx passed over his lips. Specifically the thumb's distal phalanx bone.<br/><br/>"Sans?" he breathed shakily against the bone still hovering there.<br/><br/>"Ah, sorry," came the strained reply. "I used the wrong color of lipstick. I wasn't paying attention-I should have used a tissue or something-"<br/><br/>Even with his eyes closed and the majority of his abilities useless against monsters, he could still pinpoint where Sans was. More specifically, he could distinguish where the skeleton's arm was at, reaching across to the table that held the costuming supplies. His hand wrapped around Sans's wrist, careful of the frail form underneath his touch. "It's ok, Sans. It just startled me. You usually avoid touching me."<br/><br/>A tight chuckle came in response. "Yeah. Still, I should have used a tissue. Lipstick stains bone, too."<br/><br/>There was a heavy silence between them but Alex didn't move to break it. He didn't feel there was a need as he carefully released Sans's arm. He could practically feel the skeleton relax at the lack of contact and that hurt on some level.<br/><br/>A tissue was used in place of bare phalanges to clean up later mistakes.<br/><br/>"Alright, take a look."<br/><br/>Alex opened his eyes, finding himself first looking at a beaming Sans. He turned, looking at the mirror beside him. There, staring back at him, was a pale figure with wild hair and face splattered with blood. His lips had been painted in a cool color that made him look rather dead. There were a few spots of blood all over his face but the majority of the mess was around his mouth where it looked like blood had raced down his throat from an overflow of blood. It was a rather wicked look and matched the attire he had been given: slightly tattered top and bottoms, no shoes, and all of it splattered in blood in some way. There was even a few hand prints in blood. It was rather inventive and well thought out, really.<br/><br/>He caught Sans's interested gaze in the mirror and beamed at the shorter skeleton. "You'll have to show me how to do this tomorrow. It looks great."<br/><br/>Sans beamed back, though it would seem that the compliment had caught Sans a bit off guard. Embarrassment was at the edge of the grin. "Absolutely."<br/><br/>"30 minute warning!" was called over the crowd of technicians and actors.<br/><br/>Alex's head came about, trying to spot who had called off the warning.<br/><br/>"Welp." Alex turned his attention back to Sans and Sans gave him a smile, asking, "Mind helping me look like I'm filthy?"<br/><br/>Alex snorted, standing. "Like you need help with that."<br/><br/>There was a playful shove from his friend but Alex felt far lighter and far more optimistic about the evening than he had not even moments ago.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You’ve never truly lived</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pod hissed open and he opened his eyes, fully rested but mentally tired. He sat up as the lights in the room illuminated the sparse space.<br/><br/>The automated system went to work. He was up, washed, and dressed, ready for breakfast, in the standard five minutes. He walked the trodden path to the mess hall, his gaze flickering out the windows he passed.The heart of the spacecraft was currently visible but there were glimpses of stars beyond the edges of the structure. By the time he would be making the trek back to his rooms for the evening, he would only be able to see stars and any planets they were passing.<br/><br/>The food in the mess hall was the same rations as they had always been. He took his portion without comment, eating the food heavily doused in vitamins and minerals to keep him functional. The food part of the whole thing was just to keep internal systems working. Apparently just popping pills killed people.<br/><br/>He was done eating by the time his alert came. The system had timed everything perfectly. He stood up, allowing the cleaner bot to take his tray. He watched the bot go even as he headed in the opposite direction. He wondered how long it would be before humans were not needed. Humans were expendable, though, so it made them useful.<br/><br/>He showed up for training. The next six hours were spent in the simulator and sparring against the others in his class. Lunch was the same thing as breakfast. The following six hours were spent working. If someone couldn't work, they were terminated, simple as that. It was a humane way to go from what he had been told. Long ago when they had been planet bound, death was something that was unpredictable and painful. Now it was a fact of life, easily controlled, and welcomed once one was unable to pull their own weight.<br/><br/>He strapped into his space suit, hands automatically running through a checklist long since ingrained into habit. He still focused on the task, still thought through it, but there was no hesitation and it was all completed within the allotted time. Helmet secure, he stepped into the airlock with 19 other people in space suits. The atmosphere was removed from the airlock and the exterior door opened on its own. He followed the group out before heading to his own work.<br/><br/>He was an isolated worker, scraping off particles that had collected on the outer paneling. Someone followed after him, documenting damages to the hull, but they never spoke. The com was always silent.<br/><br/>Until it wasn't.<br/><br/><em>-All personnel! Return to the nearest airlock! All personnel! Return to the nearest airlock immediately!-</em><br/><br/>He turned, activating the propulsion units on the bottom of his boots as the propulsion unit on his back roared to life. He followed three other streaks of light into the nearest airlock and the door hissed behind them as the artificial gravity activated. His boots clattered with the floor but he barely reacted.<br/><br/>The atmosphere didn't return as the entire compound shuddered and jerked. Suddenly, the door into the spacecraft snapped open and atmosphere rushed into the airlock, shoving not only himself and the three he had followed, but the other four that had already been there against the opposite wall.<br/><br/>The door leading into space snapped open.<br/><br/>He scrambled for purchase on the wall as his propulsion units roared. He found it and held on tight, unable to look and see if there was anyone he could help. If he let one hand go, he would be sucked away and of no use to anyone.<br/><br/>The artificial gravity seemed to have been cut when the pressure had balanced out finally. He was breathing hard and shaking, but not worse for wear. He pushed himself away from the wall but kept his grip, looking around.<br/><br/>He was the only one alive.<br/><br/>Two others had managed to cling to safety but one had been impaled by something and had clearly died on impact while another suffered due to a rip in their suit. He shuddered and moved to the door.<br/><br/>The stars were spinning around him.<br/><br/>He jerked back and for the first time in a very long time felt true motion sickness. He swallowed down hard on the nausea and turned his back to the door. He made his way in deeper, making it a point not to look out any of the windows.<br/><br/>For whatever reason, the end section he was in had been ripped away from the spacecraft and was now hurtling through space. Each end section had a small shuttle because of the possibility of detachment and danger but the spacecraft never made it anywhere close to action for the shuttles to be utilized often enough for him to feel confident in it still working.<br/><br/>He found it to be completely useless when he managed to find it.<br/><br/>The end section had been expanded. A lot of the spacecraft had been expanded over the cycles so it was no surprise when he found his only hope not only so out dated he didn't know how to even activate the on-board computers, but completely trapped by the chunk of spacecraft encasing it.<br/><br/>His suit's clock read three hours later by the time he figured out the on-board systems. The shuttle's hatch secured shut and atmosphere filled the space. He removed his helmet, grateful for the new air seeing as his suit's life support for air was now reading red. It took him another hour and a half to figure out what was what with the outdated system and by the time he was able to pinpoint his location to the spacecraft, there was nothing he could do. Whatever explosion had happened, it had sent him towards the nearest system. He had four days before he crashed down on a planet.<br/><br/>There was no sign of the spacecraft at its last known coordinates.<br/><br/>It was easy to keep with some semblance of a normal routine for the next four days. The rations on the shuttle were still good, surprisingly, and the water supply was still fresh. He ran the water through the filter system in his suit before consuming it, just in case. He exercised and sparred with his shadow. He kept his mind sharp by figuring out all of the shuttle's inner workings which was a lot harder than he would have thought.<br/><br/>Touching the planet's atmosphere couldn't have come soon enough.<br/><br/>The air was being recycled poorly and he was running out of fresh air. He didn't dare use his suit's reserves till the final, treacherous descent to the planet's surface was happening. Still, he suited up and strapped into the seat he had deduced would be the safest while still being able to access the controls.<br/><br/>The hull metal of the spacecraft started heating up immediately upon entry of the denser atmosphere. It had never been designed for entry into planet atmospheres. The shuttles were.<br/><br/>He secured his helmet and started the airflow in his suit. He closed his eyes, trying to keep himself relaxed as the entire hunk of metal around him jerked and spun, pressing large amounts of Gs against his body. The closer to the planet the mass of metal got, the more intense the g-force became.<br/><br/>There was a loud bang and his eyes snapped open.<br/><br/>He was blinded for the moment it took for his helmet to compensate for the sudden light. He snapped forward. Somehow the shuttle had not only been upside down and backwards, trying to get the darn thing to face the right way had been a fun endeavor. Still, after a couple of tries and nearly wrecking the craft in the process, he had the shuttle's trajectory fixed and his descent significantly slowed. The shuttle took command well, automatically correcting as old systems caught up with the situation and his descent eased into flight as the shuttle entered the lowest level of atmosphere.<br/><br/>That was the end of his good luck.<br/><br/>The shuttle's systems crashed and what had started out as a nice flight over the distant lands turned into a nose dive. He did what he could but a majority of the system was run electronically, meaning no matter how hard he yanked at the control joist, very little would respond.<br/><br/>He woke with a groggy start.<br/><br/>There was a sense of urgency driving him awake but his body was slow to react. He felt oddly lightweight but every part of his body ached. His suit was blaring at him, trying to get his attention. Even as he took in the low air warning flashing across the inside of his helmet, he couldn't get himself awake any faster.<br/><br/>He looked around, finding an odd substance within the shuttle. A creature moved through it, seeming not to notice him still strapped in his seat. He unlatched the restrains and found himself drifting through the substance as if he was in zero g. And yet he was slowly floating towards his left. He utilized this odd direction to make it to the side hatch and open it. Air bubbles rushed passed him, floating in the direction his head was pointed, and he chose to make that direction up. He followed those bubbles, followed them till his air was becoming hard to breathe and the liquid around him was turning bright blue with an odd transparency.<br/><br/>Breaking the surface of the odd substance startled him. He bobbed back under before coming back to the surface and floating there. He quickly unlatched his helmet, kicking at the substance to try and keep at the surface now that he had no air supply. A mouthful of the substance told him it was water.<br/><br/>He didn't understand. He wasn't sure he could understand. Logically he knew that he must be planet side and some planets had breathable air with water and life on its surface but having never seen or experienced it before was overwhelming.<br/><br/>He was drowning.<br/><br/>The suit grew too heavy when it filled with water and his limbs had long since become numb from the frigged temperatures. Not to mention he was already having a hard enough time staying afloat without attempting to get free of the suit as well.<br/><br/>He slipped beneath the surface and couldn't get above it again.<br/><br/>He came to feeling warm and heavy. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling sore in places he never thought could be sore. He focused on a dimly lit brown roof, the shadows dancing as the sound of crackling was heard off to his left. He could distinguish that there was something soft weighing him down but what it was specifically, he wasn't sure. Movement to his left drew his attention and he found himself looking up at the strangest girl he had ever seen. At least, he thought it was a girl. Only girls were permitted to have hair long enough to tie back.This girl before him had skin a brown similar to the roof he could barely make out and weird blemishes here and there not only on their face and neck, but on their arms as well. He frowned, asking hoarsely, "Where am I?"<br/><br/>"O bene! Expergiscimini tu es. Nos anxius sunt tui te non morieris in somno."<br/><em>(Oh good! You're awake. We were worried you would die in your sleep.)</em><br/><br/>He frowned, the sounds wrong in his ears. He grew anxious. "What?"<br/><br/>The stranger's expression turned soft, cautious, but no less kind.<br/><br/>"Non mirum non intelligis. Invenimus tua navis in fundo lacus Asphar. Miserabile, non habent aliquid ad eam reficiendam usus est ut vos erant 'adhæsit hic genus."<br/><em>(Not a surprise you don't understand me. We found your ship at the bottom of the lake. Sadly, we don't have anything to repair it with so you're kind of stuck here.)</em><br/><br/>He shook his head, moving away from the stranger. The stranger's expression fell. "Where am I? Why can't I understand you?"<br/><br/>The stranger raised their hand between them, a gesture he didn't really understand.<br/><br/>"Securus. Nemo suus 'iens est nocere tibi."<br/><em>(Easy. No one's going to hurt you.)</em><br/><br/>He was shaking as he pushed himself up against the wall behind him. It was soft and everything was wrong and the world was now spinning and...and-<br/><br/>The stranger's hand was firm on the back of his, pushing his head down. The awkward movement forced his head between his knees. He struggled, tried to get out of the hold, but the stranger was far stronger than he was and had better leverage. The odd thing, though, was that they had simply stilled beside him, making it so he couldn't raise his head but nothing more. He could hear them breathing in slow breaths. In slow, hold, out slow, hold. He found himself matching his breathing to theirs and the anxiety clawing at him was replaced with exhaustion.<br/><br/>He wasn't sure why the stranger moved away when they did, but he was grateful when they helped him to lay down from the awkward position. He fell asleep as their odd language washed over him.<br/><br/>"Me paenitet. Placere requiem bene. Nos te experiri et instar aliqualiter communicate mane."<br/><em>(I'm sorry. Please rest well. We'll try and figure some way to communicate in the morning.)</em><br/><br/>When he woke again, he was alone and on his side. He had a clear view of the space he was in, meaning he had a clear view of the thing that was crackling. It was the same thing creating odd light for the space and he frowned. He didn't recognize it, not at first. It wasn't till the same stranger moved to the light, caught the light on a stick, and used the now lit stick to light several hanging objects about the room did he figure out what it was.<br/><br/>Fire.<br/><br/>Did these people - they had to be people - not have technology or were they just utilizing it for amusement? The stranger from before lit the last of the hanging lights and put the stick out, turning to him.<br/><br/>"Adhuc non intelligere me, ius?"<br/><em>(Still don't understand me, right?)</em><br/><br/>He blinked at the stranger. Said stranger sighed and grabbed a chair. Sitting beside his bed, the stranger pointed at themself. "Vesper," they spoke clearly.<br/><br/>"Meum nomen. Vesper. Nomen. Vesper."<br/><em>(My name. Vesper. Name. Vesper.)</em><br/><br/>The stranger gestured to him. "Nomen?"<br/><br/>Was the stranger...asking his name?<br/><br/>The stranger gestured back at their self. "Nomen. Vesper."<br/><br/>He reached out, pointing at the stranger's face, rather than the stranger's chest. "Vesper," he repeated cautiously. "Your name. You are Vesper. Name. Vesper."<br/><br/>The stranger seemed to understand a bit faster than he currently was able to because they nodded, pleased. "Nomen. Vesper."<br/><br/>"Name. Vesper," he repeated once more.<br/><br/>The stranger nodded, and then pointed at his face. "Nomen."<br/><br/>"Name." He moved his gaze from the finger in his face to the face of the stranger. "Solas." He pointed at his own chest. "Name. Nomen. Solas."<br/><br/>"Solas," Vesper repeated, smiling softly. Vesper then pressed their hand flat against their chest. "Vesper." They pressed their hand flat against his chest. "Solas."<br/><br/>Solas covered Vesper's hand. "Yes." He looked up, pressing his own palm into Vesper's chest. "Vesper." He pressed harder against the hand pinned to his own chest. "Solas."<br/><br/>Vesper nodded, removing his hand from Solas and himself from touch.<br/><br/>"Nomina. Bonum. Quod suus 'satus. Postea operari possumus in verbis propriis. Avia sicut et beatus eris quia nomen tuum est."<br/><em>(Names. Good. That's a start. We can work on proper language later. Avia will just be happy to know your name.)</em><br/><br/>Solas settled back, watching Vesper mill about.<br/><br/>From there, life for Solas became a blur of activity. Learning the odd language was not easy but Vesper was there to help him right along. It was rather nice that Vesper was more than willing to learn Solas's language as well. At first Solas was confined to the room, then the structure, then the grounds. The structure he was in was isolated and housed only Vesper, Solas, and an old woman that Vesper simply called Avia. There were visitors and, while there were clearly signs of technology, nothing was like what he had back in space. Not to mention that the tech was also notably different. Different cultures had created different needs and the technology went with the needs required. Information and the distribution of information seemed key but there was no hurry to expand quickly. While long distance travel was taken care of by strange shuttles, a number of people still traveled by creature power, Vesper and Avia included. Solas found the work with the animals on the property to be even more exhausting than what he had done on the spacecraft.<br/><br/>By the time Solas had grasped the language six months later, he had been living with Vesper and their family in the main town for four months. Avia - which he had come to learn meant grandmother - had remained at her isolated home. It had been a culture shock to know such an old woman would die at any time and there was nothing anyone could do. The fact that the old woman was even still useful astounded Solas to no end.<br/><br/>Finally, after months of keeping such thoughts to himself, he told Vesper.<br/><br/>They chuckled. "You've never truly lived, have you? Even after all these months."<br/><br/>Solas pushed at Vesper's shoulder and the other went with the motion, cackling. "I understand plenty. I just can't figure out why Avia is still able to be of use. She seems more of a hindrance than anything."<br/><br/>It was rather telling how much Vesper understood Solas and his - in Vesper's words - "backwards way of growing up" when they didn't take offence to the statement. Vesper shrugged. "Doesn't answer my question." Vesper looked to the west before looking back at Solas. "Come over here."<br/><br/>Solas dutifully followed his friend through the small town. By the time they reached a hill to the east of the village, the sun was setting. Vesper plopped down in the grass, patting the spot next to him. "Take a seat."<br/><br/>Solas settled beside Vesper. Vesper looked out to the horizon, expression content and body relaxed. When Vesper offered no words, Solas mimicked them.<br/><br/>At first, he didn't understand and quickly grew bored. He knew of sunsets. He had viewed them many times still impressed by their beauty. But as time wore on, he found himself simply exhausted and unable to keep himself propped up anymore. He laid back in the grass, gaze going to the first stars appearing.<br/><br/>"You know you don't have to work every day, do something every day," Vesper voiced.<br/><br/>Solas shrugged. "I'm too used to being of use."<br/><br/>"But you're killing yourself."<br/><br/>Solas flinched.<br/><br/>Vesper's hand was gentle against his arm but he couldn't look at his friend. He could feel Vesper's gaze on him but couldn't meet it. "Solas. I know you're afraid. I know you wish you were back home where death was a thing that was known and had a specific time of when it was coming, but you're not there. You're here. And here means that death comes to us when it does. Sometimes it comes when we're barely even born. Sometimes it waits till we've seen three generations surpass us like Avia. And sometimes it comes due to illness and things we have no control over." Vesper's grip tightened. "You're practically being crushed by this planet's gravity. It's rather impressive you haven't been crushed sooner but I can tell it's slowly and surely taking its toll on you. I see it in the morning when you can't seem to gather the strength to get out of bed. I see it when you take a break from working and sag against the wall or in the chair supporting you. I see it when you try to lift the same weight you could easily lift all those months ago and strain against it. I see it when you sink into the water and finally relax, simply floating where it seems there is no gravity."<br/><br/>Vesper leaned over him so that Solas had no choice but to meet Vesper's kind gaze. "I see it when you flinch at the topic of death."<br/><br/>"I don't want to die," Solas choked out.<br/><br/>Vesper smiled sadly as a sob wrenched itself from Solas's chest. "I know, Sol.I know."<br/><br/>Vesper placed their forehead against his as he laid there crying. "None of us do."<br/><br/>Solas reached up and wrapped his arms tightly around Vesper, finally facing the fear that had been drowning him as much as the planet's gravity. Vesper pressed their face into his hair. "I've got you." Vesper's grip tightened as they repeated, "I've got you."<br/><br/>Solas prayed for a painless death, a quick one, with no loose strings remaining.</p>
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